


Mother

by Cate_32



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brothers, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Mother-Son Relationship, Other, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 19:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16523534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cate_32/pseuds/Cate_32
Summary: After running away from home, Sirius tries to settle into family life with the Potters.





	Mother

**Author's Note:**

> I have dyslexia and struggled quiet a bit with the verb tense on this one, so I'm sorry if it's a little mixed up.

Fleamont Potter stands in the doorway to his kitchen, lovingly watching his wife Euphemia. Pots and pans fly around the kitchen, wooden spoons seemingly stirring thing on their own accord, as an array of gorgeous smells circled the air. Euphemia stands in the centre like a conductor, food flying in all direction and miraculously landing on trays midair before settling themselves neatly onto the kitchen table. Fleamont couldn’t help but smile as he entered the kitchen, grabbing Euphemia around the waist, pulling her back to him and cuddling her close. Her giggle was music to Fleamonts ears as she pulls away and pushes him out of the kitchen, still waving her wand in her other hand. Retreating back to the safety of his doorway he continued to watch his wife, her cheeks now flushed red and the corners of her mouth twitching upward. 

 

Fleamonts peace is quickly shattered by the familiar sound of his son coming downstairs, so fast it almost sounded like he’d fallen. James smiles brightly, patting his father on the back before picking up a handful of homemade sausage rolls, earning him a sharp slap on the hand from his mother. Pausing only to smile questionly at her before popping another into his mouth, James takes in the kitchen,  the trays piled high with food and wolf whistled.

 

“Are we feeding an army tonight Mam?”

“James, you know this is an important party. Your dad's colleagues will be here and…”

“I know Mam” James reassured Euphemia with a squeeze of the shoulder, she shook her head but didn’t continue with her scolding.

 

As Sirius appeared in the doorway behind Fleamont, James bursts out laughing so hard that small parts of pastry launch from his mouth.

“Merlin's beard Pads, what are you wearing?!” James wheezes, almost doubling over. Sirius stands up a little straighter, looking highly uncomfortable and annoyed at James. He has shed his normal clothes of ripped black jeans and a dirty band tee for smart dress robes and pulled his black hair back into a neat bun. James would even dare to guess that he’s even used a hairbrush and hair potion. Fleamont pats an awkward looking Sirius on the shoulder, smiling warming as Sirius shifts uncomfortably.

“You look good Sirius, really smart.” Fleamont reassures him, as James begins laughing harder, only subduing with a stern look from his mother. 

Euphemia crosses the room to face Sirius. 

“I really appreciate that _ somebody  _ is making an effort for this party.” She emphasizes her words while comically glancing to a now red faced James.

“But you don’t have to dress up, your normal clothes are fine.  _ Just be you _ .” Sirius seems to visibly relax and deflate, like he was releasing a breath nobody knew he had been holding. With a smile, he leaves to change, taking the stairs two at a time while pulling off his tie.

Fleamont crosses the kitchen to his wife, leaning down and kissing her cheek. 

“You're amazing Mrs Potter!”

“Ugh!” James groans as he follows Sirius, leaving his parents in the kitchen giggling like they were back at school.

 

***

 

The Potters home was now full to the brim of Witches and Wizards from all walks of life. James played the dutiful son, standing by his father’s side, being polite and charming as ever. Sirius was now dressed in his normal clothes, although they were now washed and ironed for the first time in longer than he’d care to admit. He hung around the kitchen, trying to help Euphemia with the food wherever she would allow it. He had almost made it through the night with only minimal conversation, when he found himself in a small group of Witches, along with Fleamont and Euphemia.

 

“Such a lovely family you have Euphemia.”

Sirius looks at his shoes as Euphemia thanked the old witch, agreeing that she did indeed have a beautiful family. 

“This party is perfect Effie.”

Sirius is surprised when another Witch within the group addresses him directly.

“You must be really proud of your Mother tonight young man?”

Alarm and panic charges through Sirius’ veins, his pulse quickening until he can hear his heartbeat in his ear. The group of Witches look expectantly at him and he struggles with the words caught in his throat.

“She’s not my Mother!” The words come out too loud, seemingly breaking this perfect night and shattering the illusion of the happy family. The room falls too silent and Sirius can’t bare to bring himself to look at Euphemia, who is silent next to him. James’ voice echos on the edge of Sirius mind. “What the hell mate?!” 

The walls of the now too small house seem to be moving, closing in on Sirius and trapping him inside with his mistakes and guilt. Before he knows how, Sirius is moving through the faceless crowd, bodies pushed together too close, the house too hot, too confined, the air too heavy.

 

Sirius stumbles out into the garden, the cold night air a welcome sting on his now wet cheeks. Body now beyond heavy, his legs crumple beneath him. His back against cold brick, palms hitting too hard on the concrete pathway. Images of his mother, Walburga Black, creep out of the shadows of his mind. Memories so life like, Sirius feels his heart may break through his chest.

 

***

 

Euphemia Potter does not think twice about abandoning her guests as she makes her way through the crowd looking for Sirius. Finally, after talking to a distressed looking James, she finds Sirius huddled against the garden wall. Approaching him slowly, Euphemia sinks down to sit on the path next to him. In silence she waits. When Sirius finally raises his head, Euphemia heart breaks. The boy looks so much younger than he had a few hours before. Even under the cover of evening, she can see his tear stained cheeks and wide, scared eyes. Still she waits, refusing to push him.

Sirius voice comes out in barely a whisper, so quiet that Euphemia struggles to hear him and leans forward slightly. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

The words fall on the night air, said with such honesty that Euphemia can feel them in her bones.

 

“You have nothing to apologize for Sirius.” Euphemia words are steady and certain, although her voice remains soft. “You’re right, I’m not your mother and I would never claim…”

 

“No!” Sirius almost shouts, hugging his knees closer to his body and hiding his face in his arms. “No, no, no.”

 

Euphemia feels at a loss for words, her heart about to break. All she wants is to comfort the crying boy in front of her that she now sees as her son.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Sirius chokes out. “She… My  _ mother. _ . Walburge..” His words are disjointed and broken. Euphemia waits silently, holding her breath. “She doesn't deserve to share that word with you.”

The statement hangs between them in the cold night air. Euphemia lost for words, her heart expanding with love for a son that wasn’t born to her but gained.

 

“Sirius…” Euphemia reaches forward, showing her intent to Sirius before placing her hand over his and squeezing gently. Sirius finally looks at her, his eyes full of apologies and guilt.

“You will always be a son to me and Fleamont. But you are under no obligation to call me mother. It’s your choice,  _ everything will always be your choice _ .” 

 

Euphemia jumps in surprise as Sirius throws himself forward into her arms. She holds onto him tightly as he cries into her arms, trying to give him the comfort that he has missed so early in life. Euphemia holds him until his breathing calmed and his tears stopped. She holds him after that, when the night had fallen silent until the voices of guests leaving could be heard. 

 

When Sirius finally pulls away, it’s with a weak smile as Euphemia ruffles his hair. Wiping his face and rising to his slightly unsteady feet, Sirius helps Euphemia up and into the now nearly empty house. Both met at the door by a worried looking Fleamont and an angry looking James. James stood with his arms crossed, chest puffed out. 

“Sirius, you’re my best mate but…”

“James!” Euphemia gives a stern warning. “Sirius and I have sorted everything.”

“Oh thank Merlin!” James sighs in relief, throwing an arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “I really wouldn’t stand a chance against you in a fight.” The four of them burst out laughing as James and Sirius start to struggle against each other in a play fight, trying to ruffle each others hair.

“Right, get yourselves away upstairs lads, we’ll tidy tomorrow.” Fleamont ordered in a finality that was not questioned. Sirius follows James’ lead as he first hugged his mother and then his father. 

“There’s a leftover bottle of the champion for you both in James room, don’t tell Effie!” as Fleamont whispers in Sirius ear he couldn’t help but laugh.

Following James up the stairs, Sirius pauses halfway up, a shy smile lighting up his face. And spoke words that warmed Euphemia and Fleamonts hearts.

 

“Goodnight Mum, Goodnight Dad”


End file.
